We need not belabor the obvious things, though they may be worth mentioning at least briefly.
Conor McGregor was wrong. I’m all for standing up for mistreated friends, if that’s what the UFC star felt he was doing after his teammate Artem Lobov was apparently bullied in a hotel lobby in Neimpw York earlier this week by fellow UFC 223 combatant Khabib Nurmagomedov with his own teammates around. Yet, McGregor’s attacks on his fellow UFC athletes Thursday, several of whom he directly injured and forced off the UFC 223 card due to injuries he caused, endangering their careers, did nothing to hurt or apparently damage his ostensible intended target – Nurmagomedov himself.
The Dagestani lightweight contender is reportedly uninjured after McGregor’s loud and dangerous show. McGregor’s actions also directly hurt his own friend Lobov, who was removed from the UFC 223 card and now will have nothing to show for months of work.
Hopefully, Lobov will be one of many people McGregor will pay out of his own pocket for damages sustained. McGregor’s move reeked of self-aggrandizement, not loyalty.
It was no gangster move, either.
Acting as he did, and often does, McGregor would likely not last very long on any collection of dangerous streets in a city of any consequence were he not tended to and protected constantly by security personnel, his fame, and money, despite his pained efforts to insist that he’s some sort of wise guy.
In the dark world which McGregor so often tries to super-impose his polished image upon, moves are made much differently, at least the effective ones. Of course, I can only speak from observational experience from my small window of perspective as a near lifelong resident of Chicago’s inner-city, but I still feel confident that the lessons we learned young here apply elsewhere.
Here are a couple – When you’re ready to do something, you get quiet, not rowdy. Anyone can get got. Noisy, posturing lads are mere distractions and hardly ever dangerous at the moment when they attract the most attention to themselves. The most sensitive of work is done while blending in, quietly, hooded up.
Don’t buy the idea that McGregor was trying to get to Nurmagomedov. There is no evidence of that.
This week, as a UFC 223 fighter, Khabib’s schedule is widely known, to the point where anyone with an open eye and ear could find him at any time of day or night. In fact, that’s how Conor did find him Thursday.
When he did, McGregor did about the only thing that would prevent him from actually getting his hands on his supposed nemesis. If surrounding people could not have stopped McGregor from storming up and down, throwing things, injuring multiple people while shouting, they surely would not have thought to or been able to stop him in time if he had chosen to quietly board the bus and go after Nurmagomedov, personally.
McGregor is no gangster – not that it is an identity one should aspire to – he’s a wannabe. His antics, dangerous as they were to many, did nothing to hurt his intended target.
At best, that’s impotence.
Now onto the less obvious. The UFC and its president Dana White bear no small amount of responsibility for McGregor’s attack on his fellow athletes. Though it is the bloodiest example by leaps, this was far from the first time McGregor has assaulted other athletes and their teammates at media events.
Off the top of my head, I can recall him striking Jose Aldo during an interview, and assaulting members of Nate Diaz’s team. He’s also consistently used hate speech and threatened others, publicly.
All the while, the UFC sat idly by, ignoring or defending him, refused to discipline him in any way, and cashed in.
They will likely continue to do so. Interest in Saturday’s pay-per-view has doubtless increased because of McGregor’s light terrorism in Manhattan, as has a future fight between him and Nurmagomedov.
McGregor won’t be fired as he certainly should be. Dana White has called McGregor’s attacks the most disgusting thing that has ever happened in the UFC.
He’s wrong, but fighters like Paul Daley have certainly been released and banned for life from the promotion for doing far less damage. So, why shouldn’t McGregor also be banned for life?
UFC athletes clearly aren’t safe around him outside the cage; neither are UFC employees like Reed Harris who was reportedly in the bus with athletes when McGregor attacked them and tweeted afterward that he feared for his own life and was being treated in a hospital for injuries McGregor caused. McGregor has been arrested and charged for the assaults captured on video by multiple sources.
So, why shouldn’t McGregor be released from the UFC and banned for life when others have been for similar or far less damaging actions?
Dana White has said that the situation is bigger than Conor McGregor getting fired. It isn’t, and we should read that as the cop-out it is and an indication that the promoter and UFC has no intention of releasing its biggest cash cow and letting him generate money for other promotions.
If there’s any justice in this situation, McGregor will be convicted, serve a prison sentence, and then not allowed back into the United States (foreign fighters with criminal records have historically and routinely had difficulty being allowed back in the US and allowed to fight here), be fired, and then sued for millions by other fighters and arena staff and UFC employees who he has caused a yet unknown amount of damage to their health and careers.
Still, one of the most significant acts anyone can take against McGregor right now would be the UFC releasing him. Though one would be forgiven for forgetting this of late, McGregor’s livelihood is fighting in the UFC.
He is, however, a great deal of their livelihood as well. If the WME-IMG owned promotion shows they won’t let the prospect of McGregor making millions of dollars for another company stop them from doing the right thing, here, they’ll make a huge statement about their own integrity and also potentially better protect themselves from legal exposure from any people who have already been or will in the future be injured by McGregor on the UFC’s watch who realize that they might make more money suing the fighter’s enabling bosses than they can from merely suing the newly rich 29-year-old.
About the author:
Elias Cepeda is a host of Sports Illustrated’s Extra Rounds Podcast, a staff writer at FloCombat, and has a regular column for The UG Blog.
